14 Weeks: A Novel (with Optional Cliff's Notes Version)

Dear Samantha,

It’s Thursday—which means that it’s time for another weekly update on all things “you,” so without any further adieu, my not-so-little-fourteen-week-old-bundle-of-joy…

I’ll give you the Cliff’s Notes version first:

• You discovered your hands. More specifically, you discovered that you like the way your hands taste.
• You also learned that if you try hard enough to get out of your swaddle, you can loosen your arm free and enjoy the benefits of thumb sucking in the wee small hours of the morning.
• We met your newest cousin last weekend: Wendy Elizabeth. Methinks the two of you are going to get along like two peas in a pod.
• When you are hungry or tired, you cry. A lot. This throws me for a loop when I’m not aware that the source of your tears is hunger or fatigue.
• You currently are weighing in at a whopping 13 pounds, 8 ounces and are 24 inches long.
• Although you’ve given us slight half laughs before, yesterday you gave me a full on, can’t-hold-it-in-anymore LAUGH.

Now for the full-length version:

Discoveries

Over the course of the past several weeks, you’ve learned that if you grab something (skill one) and put it in your mouth (skill two), you can explore the world around you by taste. As I write this, the things that you like to put in your mouth are your clothes, burp cloths, blankets, toys and hands. If left to your own devices, that little hand of yours starts rooting around for a shirt or dress hem to clasp in your fist for a little taste. This also works if one of the aforementioned objects is anywhere in your vicinity. Mickey’s nose will never be the same, I’m afraid.

If you can’t find anything for a grab n’ taste, you settle for your hands. This seems to work for you, because you smile like no tomorrow as you cram those fists in your mouth (yes, I said fists—sometimes you get overly ambitious and try to fit both of your hands in your mouth).

New Additions

The family baby boom continued last week with the birth of your second cousin, Wendy Elizabeth Collins. She was born exactly 13 weeks after you were born. Had she been born on the 21^st instead of the 20^th, you two would be exactly three months apart. Little Elizabeth is absolutely adorable…and tiny. She’s two pounds smaller than you were at birth. She was a few days old when we made the pilgrimage to Exeter to see her, and I couldn’t help but stare at her and compare the size difference between the two of you. Were you really a little newborn like that? The changes that have happened these past few months have been so slow and gradual that it’s hard to believe that you’ve left the newborn stage and are now officially an infant.

At any rate—back to you. You were pretty content for the first part of the visit, but for the last hour, you were NOT a happy camper, which leads us to the next “chapter”:

Tears

Seriously, kiddo, you threw me for a loop last week. Just when I (rather smugly, I must admit), thought I had you and your routine all figured out, too. Your routine had been something like this:

§ 7-9AM: wake up, get fed and changed (order depended on the urgency of the morning diaper).

§ 9AM-Noon: Hang out on the activity mat, kicking and reaching and cooing away whilst wondering what will that magical white light up bear do today? At least, I think that’s what you were wondering. Somewhere during this time, we fed you your second bottle of the day.

§ Noon-3PM: Naptime in the swing (burp rag on one side of your face, doll on the other, and pacifier in your mouth).

§ 3PM: Mommy’s home! Time to lay in mommy’s arms, drink the third bottle of the day, and coo away to tell her everything that you did that morning.

§ 6-8PM: Drink fourth bottle, lull yourself into a food coma that results in the second nap in the swing (preferences for this nap are somewhat the same as the afternoon nap).

§ 8-10PM: Wind down time. Have the fifth bottle and get into a onesie and swaddle. Suck on the pacifier, and with a full stomach and happy heart, fall asleep in mommy’s arms.

§ 10PM: Bedtime! Sleep for a very long time so you can repeat the routine again the next morning.

Yep. It was all figured out and a mutual understanding had been met by all three parties (you, and your dad & me): if we followed the routine, you were happy, and rewarded us with the babblings and spittles of a happy baby.

Last week, however, you changed your routine…and it took dear old mom and dad a while to figure this out. It seems as though you didn’t want to wait until it was “time” to eat or sleep. You much preferred to cry your way to getting what you wanted; your needs were met faster. This confused your father and I, as we weren’t used to having you cry so hard that your face resembled a ripened tomato. We thought you were tired of being held, so we would lay you on the ground and wiggle your feet to get you to calm down—to no avail. Then we thought you might be teething, so we gave you teething tablets and Tylenol. The sweet taste of the Tylenol calmed you down for a little bit, but when that taste wore off—you still looked something like a screaming Bob the Tomato.

After trying everything to get you to calm down while visiting your new cousin, I was convinced something was wrong. Were you hot? Getting an earache? Gas?

Turns out it wasn’t any of those things. We took you to the doctor, and after you almost made me look like a liar (you grinned your way through the exam), she witnessed you not being happy for a solid fifteen minutes. We tried everything to make you happy (teething, ear aches and heat had already been ruled out), but in the end it was your bottle you wanted.

Sooo…we’re upping the amount of formula you’re getting. We are now giving you six ounces per feeding. That’s two more ounces than you were getting only a month ago, but if it’s working for you, I’m not complaining. It still amazes me that you’re able to knock that much back at a time, though. The bottle—it’s bigger than your head!

Meanwhile, the tears have subsided and you’re a much happier baby. The routine of choice, while slightly modified, lives on. Thank goodness. Because with school back in session I really need all of the sleep I can get.

Growing up and out

So it totally makes sense, then, that with all of this extra formula, you’re growing by leaps and bounds. In mid-July (six weeks ago), you weighed 10 pounds, 12 ounces and were 21.75 inches long and fell perfectly in the fiftieth percentile. This past doctor’s visit confirmed what I had already suspected: your bigger than you were at that last visit. Specifically, you are 2 pounds and 8 ounces bigger. And 2.25 inches longer.

We better get working on the closet full of 3-6 month clothes. We’re making good headway, but we’ve got a long way to go. I had guessed that you would be in this clothing size during the fall and early winter months, but you’re growing before the seasons are changing. This is a bummer, because we received some adorably cute cool-weather outfits at your baby showers. Maybe you’ll get a sister who can wear them one day?

Laughs

You don’t seem to mind the closet quandary too much, because you LAUGHED for the first time yesterday. You had given your nonni & poppa half laughs (I think you were being more polite than anything), but you gave your mama a full on, if-you-held-it-in-anymore-you’d-pee-your-diaper, LAUGH. And yes, I am going to put the world LAUGH in all caps because that’s how big that LAUGH was. And you LAUGHED twice for me. Apparently, you like to have your booty shaken while your mama says “Oooga Booga,” because that’s exactly what we were doing when you LAUGHED. And then you LAUGHED again because you didn’t get it all out the first time.

So, my darling fourteen week old daughter, this one’s for you:

Oooga Booga.

Love you lots,

Your mommy